He Who Drew the Flames
She stood there staring through the window. The knight walked back and forth, staring with bloodshot eyes. He hesitated to look at the woman. There was something oddly familiar about her, but what it was, he could not recall. "You know what you have done, witch, you have murdered the warden," the knight shook his head. The woman did not reply. Her eyes shone with fury and malevolence. She didn't care for her village and her thoughts raced. The knight again hesitated and backed off. His vision began to blur, and in a deliberate motion, he unsheathed his broadsword, attempting to slash the woman. She furrowed her brows in concentration, and dodged the warriors blow. Her lips curved into a wicked smile. "You fool, you do not know who you are dealing with." The knight stopped in his tracks and dropped his sword. His head throbbed and his veins began to pump intensely. Instinctively, he tried to fight back but the woman's gaze had locked him in a trance. Soon, a flood of memories came into the man's head. He grabbed it, trying to stifle the pain as he recalled his memories. Fire! There was fire. In the sky, smoke rose and the howling of the wolves filled the air. The knight stood there with his cavalry unit in silence. He motioned an order to his soldiers to enter the village. The men followed the knight's order and drew their axes and swords. Dressed in gleaming metal, the armor of the men clanked as they jumped off their horses. One lesser knight drew a torch. They laughed grimly at what they were about to do. Slowly, the lesser knight gently put the torch on a hay stock. The flames greeted and consumed the bale of hay. The fire then began to expand in size and then it extended its fiery arm and gave a smile of contempt. Moaning came from the manors and gradually grew louder. People began to scream as the fires consumed them, turning their bodies to ash. Women and children tried to escape, but to no avail. They joined the blackened ranks of the dead. A sickly smile formed on the knight’s lips as it covered the moonlight. He shuddered as his memories began cease and blur. He glanced up at the lady, her brown eyes showing a hint of vehemence. She shuffled her feet and started moving toward the knight. She glared at him and had the urge to slay him. In the depths of her of mind, her hatred took overrode logic. She raised her hand and at the same time remembered what had happened that night. “No! Why are you doing this?!” she shrieked as a warrior came closer to her father. The warrior turned his head and in his visor, the woman could see a glint of malevolence. He unsheathed his bastard sword and swung the weapon toward her father. A splatter of crimson covered the walls as the father lay there bleeding in a helpless situation. He shifted toward his daughter and attempted to give a last hug to reassure her. Tears welled up in her eyes as her father’s eyes closed, and increased when he ceased breathing. She cried in despair and shouted in anger. She wanted to avenge her father and wanted to find the man that killed him. Her memory stopped there. She stared at the weakened knight and with a swirl of her hand, the knight’s veins popped out and bulged as she came closer. She could tell that the knight was frightened by her black magic. The knight’s heartbeat became frantic as fear washed over him. He tried standing, but his futile attempt was subdued as the woman rammed him back to the wall, executing a series of kicks until the knight’s helmet dented. The knight closed his eyes. All he could see were the faces of the children and women that had died in the arson of the village- their bodies smoking and dry, they had expressions of agony and in an attempt to protect their children they hugged them tightly. There was no serenity, just the noise of the crackling bonfire that had been set. He twisted and turned as tried to rid the abominable nightmare. He felt numb and his senses began to dull, a chilly feeling taking over him. He could not move; he was paralyzed by the nightmare. Voices came to him and their scream echoed in the dark, empty place. He could not bear it, he squirmed in agony and tried to scream, but alas it was no use. He then was surrounded by the ones who he had loved and cared for, until the king took them away and dispatched them in the various corps. He tried putting his hand on their shoulders, but they faded to dust. The wind began to pick up and became violent. A storm rose to the north, lighting and thunder sporadically booming. The whole sky darkened, wind roaring as drums began to play. The knight broke into a run and attempted to sprint toward a hall, but tripped on a stone and tumbled forward, nearly falling off a cliff. He latched on to a crag and struggled against the increasing speed of the wind. His hands banged on the stone doors and nobody replied. In the sky, the knight turned and saw a face press against it. It smiled at him in a vindictive way. A hand came closer toward his head and it grabbed his helmet. It was as if it was made out of oblivion and was nothing but hollow; Goliath in size, it shook the knight’s head violently. His eyes instantly opened, and he sat in shock. The vile expression had changed into one of surprise. The lady dropped the battered helmet and looked at the face of the bruised knight. He had the same hair and the same eye color and slightly resembled someone that was once close to her. Her hands shook and she dropped to the ground, covering her face with her hands as she began to tremble. Tears stained her hands as she turned away from her captor, muttering to the night sky. Suddenly she shouted, “Why? You are not the one…” “Brother… I loved you well, but you have deceived me as well?!” she shrieked at the knight. She came closer to the knight, glaring, then rapidly a foot smacked the knight unconscious. The lady walked away in disappointment and misery, while the knight lay unconscious under the night sky. Category:History Category:Mental Illness